Us, Them, and the Big Bad World
by BlakeM.D
Summary: Twins were born as the seventh month died, altering the course of history forever. Together, Harry and Aster will face a slew of terrible challenges. Abusive relatives, life on the streets, becoming criminals by necessity, and moral ambiguity are old hat by the time the two Potters finally return to Wizarding Britain at seventeen. Warnings: Blood, Gore, Language, Abuse, and Incest.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

I do not own Harry Potter or any of its affiliated properties. This is a work of fiction written with no intents for profit in any monetary sense.

While the actual knowledge that their father was dead downstairs and their mother had just joined him wasn't completely understood by the two, Harry and Aster both understood enough to be supremely upset. Between the panicked hollering of their father a minute ago and their mother's screaming, pleading, and crying shortly thereafter, the two were worked up to the point of wailing as distressed children are wont to do.

At one and a half years old neither of the babies cut a very imposing figure. This didn't stop Tom Riddle, self-dubbed Lord Voldemort, from shivering at the sight of them. As a man with an unhealthy obsession for power, he was uniquely suited for recognizing the potential in these children.

Regardless of what they may have one day become, at the present moment they were about as dangerous as earthworms. Smirking at the comparison, Voldemort took a large step forward, over the cooling body of the now late Mrs. Potter. Peering at the two from over their pale wooden crib, Voldemort idly pondered over the prophecy which had brought him here. He wondered, was their potential power natural, which had led to the prophecy's telling, or did the prophecy itself empower those who met its prerequisites? Would every baby born near the end of July to meddlesome parents suddenly become more powerful? Interesting…

Shaking off these thoughts, he raised his wand back up and began to speak. "Hello young Potters. So sorry for your loss. Fortunately, the two of you will be joining them momentarily. While it pains me to end two purebloods with as much potential as yourselves, sometimes sacrifices must be made."

Training his wand on the pair who were holding one another for comfort, Voldemort couldn't quite keep the victorious sneer off of his face. With a shiver of excitement traveling down his spine, Voldemort took a deep breath and yelled out the killing words,

"Avada Kedavra!"

The green orb connected with the boy's forehead for just a split second.

And then bounced right back at him. The normally painless curse sloppily tore his soul from his body, drawing a horrible screech from the man. Back in the crib Harry too was screaming, from the pain the cut on his forehead brought him; though luckily none his pain was soul related. In the next instant, the most feared man in Magical Britain was disintegrated, leaving behind a few scraps of cloth and a pile of ashes.

Minutes later, when a distraught Sirius Black made his way over to the twin's shared crib, he barely took notice of the madman's remains. Lifting the two up in a practiced motion with shaky hands, the twin's heads both resting in opposite crooks of his shoulders; he numbly made his way back downstairs and out of the house. Shortly thereafter, and after a brief argument with the half-giant Hagrid, his mind finally connected all of the dots and he realized who was responsible for this whole mess. He handed the twins over, the fifteen-month-olds fitting into the giant's hands with space to spare, and left with single-minded determination. Sirius Orion Black didn't spare a look at the two remaining Potters as he began his hunt, tears in his eyes and red-hot rage in his heart.

He would not see either of them again for many years to come.

**The Fifth of September, 1989**

**Cupboard Under the Stairs**

"Aster its ok, it doesn't even hurt. You're great!" Harry whispered to his twin sister from within the confines of their shared cupboard.

"Liar!" she whispered back, with both a frown on her face and tears in her eyes. "It's still bruised like crazy! I know it hurts! Don't lie to me Harry James… you already do enough as it is," she said, the tears finally falling.

For what must have been the millionth time since he'd learned what it meant, Harry mentally whished his uncle would just fucking die. Even when the fat bastard was busy sawing logs upstairs, he still managed to make his sister cry. Aster was just shy of bawling at the state of his back, the black and blue spotted mess that it was.

Harry remembered the first time his uncle had seriously hit him. While true that he'd been smacked around since his second birthday, matter of fact they both had, he'd never really felt one the next day until his uncle started drinking two years ago. Luckily, as far as Harry was concerned at least, his sister had only been hit in such a manner once; afterwards she was never hit again in any manner. While the thrashing he'd received for it took weeks to recover from, he was still proud of the threat he'd delivered unto his uncle.

He'd said, at the tender age of seven, "If you ever touch my sister again I'll go straight to the cops and have you arrested! And if they don't get rid of you, I WILL!" And every piece of porcelain, glass, and crystal in the entire house shattered into tiny shards in perfect synchronization with his shout. It was the first time Harry had ever seen fear enter his uncle's eyes. Of course, he'd immediately been beaten black and blue and stuffed into the cupboard after his outburst, but the fact remained that Aster was never touched by his relatives again.

Shaking away his ruminations and refocusing on the current situation, Harry decided to pull out the big-guns to quell his sister's tears; the Dursley's would be up soon and there'd be hell to pay if any noise was coming from their 'room'. Pulling the young girl into his lap, Harry began humming little made-up tunes and rubbing Aster's back until her shoulders stopped shaking. Gently pushing a now significantly calmer Aster out of his lap, Harry put his shirt back on while trying to assure Aster that he was fine.

"Sissy, you know I'll be okay. You healed a ton! You remember how tore-up I was last night, compared to that I'm perfect! Thank you, Aster. I can always count on you to make me better."

While he'd started upbeat and speaking with false cheer, by the end of his mini-speech Harry's voice was barely a whisper and his lips had found his twin's forehead.

Aster closed her eyes and gave a small nod to show she'd heard him. The two sat in silence and near-complete darkness for a while, just thinking. It was quiet times like this that allowed Harry and Aster to think about the future and what it held for them. Harry wanted with all he was to find or make a better life for him and his sister. He dreamed of riches and comfort and happiness and power for the two of them. He wanted a life that was different from the one they currently had in every possible way.

All Aster really wanted was for her brother to be happy. That's not to say she didn't want happiness for herself, exactly. She wanted that too, but her desire for her brother's happiness above her own stemmed from how much he'd done for her. Every time she used her powers to heal his split and bruised skin, her eyes prickled with tears of gratitude and sadness in equal amounts. She sometimes wished her brother had let her be hit right along with him, as his physical pain appeared to be much less than her emotional pain, if his and her reactions were anything to go by. Then she'd feel ungrateful, and remember that if they were both injured that she'd be unable to fix him up as much, and that he used to react to the pain much worse when they were younger; even though his injuries were much less severe back then. Eventually she realized that he'd gotten used to the pain, and then she cried even more.

Stomping on the stairs brought them both out of thought. It also had them scrambling to lie down on their shared cot. The only time they'd been caught staying up all night their aunt and uncle had muttered all morning about scheming and plotting. That had been a horrible day for both of the twins. Now, they made sure they always appeared to be asleep once their relatives awoke.

Like clockwork, their aunt Petunia banged on their door and slid open the lock, as pointless as it had been for a year since they'd learned to pop, and yelled for them to start on breakfast. She then headed back upstairs for her morning soak. By the time she finished in the tub all three Dursleys would be awake and ready for breakfast. This allowed the twins to scarf some toast or even a strip of bacon down before the three came downstairs.

Twenty minutes later and the Dursleys were stuffing their faces in the dining room while the Potters got ready for school in the bathroom.

"I'm good in the back, right Aster? Nothing's gonna show?" Harry asked as he lathered shampoo into his hair.

"T-there's actually a little bruise showing on your neck… do you want me to try and fix it?" Aster said, her voice wobbling slightly at first. She swapped spots from behind Harry, stepping into the shower's spray while waiting for Harry's response.

Harry thought about it. Aster's healing touch was excellent at what it did, and quite fast too. It _was_ draining, however. Between getting no sleep and healing his face and back all night on and off, Aster would be exhausted enough as it was. He didn't want his sister to sleep through school, so he responded with a simple, "No, thanks though. I'll just throw on my turtleneck."

He wore said turtleneck to school more often than he didn't. The Dursleys had bought it for him to hide his bruises, but he enjoyed wearing the black long sleeve sweater simply because everything else he owned used to be Dudley's. Luckily, with no-one's clothes to be passed down, Aster was allowed her own clothes, though they were all bought from secondhand shops. The children's poor wardrobe subtracted little from the two's looks, however.

Harry, and Aster too for that matter, were both attractive children. Harry had large, green, almond shaped eyes that popped against his black hair and signature black turtleneck. He was tan from all of the yard work he was tasked with every weekend. Between their small breakfast, school lunch, and whatever dinner they could sneak past the Dursley's, neither of the Potters were malnourished, though they were both very skinny for sure.

Only slightly shorter than her brother, Aster was a beauty herself. While they looked almost eerily similar, Aster's face was feminine for sure. Her eyes were the same color and shape as her brother's (and mother's, though neither knew that piece of trivia). The rest of her face was all girl though. Slightly pouty lips and delicate cheekbones made sure Aster was never confused with her brother. Her hair, as opposed to her brother's jaw length mess, was relatively straight and reached just below her shoulders, with her bangs brushed to the side. It was the exact same shade though, an ink-black that reflected little light. She was also paler than her brother, if only a little.

Once the twins were finished showering, dressing, and brushing their teeth and hair they headed out the door and straight for school.

St. Grogory's Primary School was a neutral ground as far as the Potters were concerned. The teachers paid them a little attention and the kids didn't make too much fun of them, but on the other hand none of the teachers noticed the poor condition Harry would sometimes come to school in and neither of the twins had any friends. It probably would have been unbearable if they didn't have each other for company or if Dudley went there too. Luckily for them, Dudley went to a private Christian school, sparing them his company.

The twin's day at school progressed like any other, with them being significantly ahead of the class in everything, but at the bottom of the grade-book due to their inability to do any homework or projects that required effort at home.

While very accomplished in all of their core subjects, the two young Potters proved especially talented in the arts. Aster was very skilled with both brush and pencil, while Harry already knew how to play intermediate songs on the violin and piano. Unfortunately, like in their regular schoolwork, the youngling's potential in the arts was stifled and held back by their poor home-life. Two hours a week was not a lot of time for the two to develop their skills in their chosen crafts, and though they'd been offered extra lessons multiple times, they'd declined them all. Taking home a permission-slip was a bad idea, as the two had learned years ago.

Aster was exhausted by the time the final bell rang, and Harry wasn't much better. He knew though, that while both of them had stayed up all night, it was Aster who really needed to rest. Using all of that energy and focus healing and then not getting any sleep was bad for his sister's health. He resolved to do her share of chores once they got home to let her take a nap. He felt it was the least he could do for his darling sister.

Once they'd arrived home and her brother had managed to convince her to lie down, Aster found herself dreaming. While she couldn't actually consciously remember what life with her parents had been like, she often dreamed of them, just holding her or taking her and Harry to the park or any number of different familial things that'd never happened.

One of her dreams started to change though, going from her and her brother and parents having a picnic to her parents yelling at her. Her father started screaming at her and calling her boy, and there was a terrible thumping noise, like a brick hitting a wall. Her mother was screaming in the background, she was upset over someone getting blood on her tile…

As the noises grew louder, Aster opened her eyes blearily. She was just in time to see her brother come stumbling into their room backwards before he fell on his butt as the door slammed shut. It clicked a half-second later, letting the two know they were now locked in from the outside.

Harry's face was a mess; both his top and bottom lips split open. His left cheek was already swollen and red, though Aster knew from experience that it would settle into a deep blue-black before long. The most alarming injury he had though was not readily visible, save for the way his hair was matted in the back. Hands already at her mouth in horror, Aster let out a half-shriek/half-sob at the blood draining from a cut on the back of his head. She detachedly figured that his head hitting the ground was the sound she'd heard in her dream and it also must have been what split the skin.

Without saying a word Aster quickly knelt by her twin and put her hands on the back of his head. She hated the feel of blood on her skin, but skin to skin contact was the only way for her to heal him, and she had to thread her fingers through his hair to make sure the ink-black tresses didn't interfere with her work.

Pushing the sick creeping up her throat back down, Aster asked Harry, "What happened," in a quiet, toneless whisper.

"Uncle Vernon took off of work early to hit a pub. He was _gone_ by the time he got home; caved in the garage door cause he didn't break in time. He blamed it on me. Aunt Petunia knew he was wrong, but she looked really scared when he started yelling so she yelled at me too. He got me twice in the face. I don't know what happened, but after the second punch I was suddenly on the floor and couldn't think very clearly. I still can't, not really anyway." As Harry was talking Aster was steadily healing his split (and concussed though neither knew what that was) head. The wound had stopped bleeding and was slowly closing up, not that Aster could see it through Harry's hair and the blood.

"You know," Harry said out of nowhere, "I really love you."

Aster was momentarily taken aback, though she figured his head injury that made thinking harder was also loosening his tongue, though that's not to say he was ever stingy with his affections towards her. She mumbled that she loved him back, but didn't think he really heard her since he started again the second the words had left her lips.

"I mean I really do love you Aster, more than anything in the whole wide world," he made a grand gesture with his arms, holding them apart as if to show her how much he loved her. He suddenly changed directions, and quickly began talking again, sounding sad.

"Why do you think mom and dad left us, Sissy? What'd we do to them, huh? Fer some reason, I don't think they really died in a car crash, but why else would we be sent here? I hate it here. I hate our evil uncle and our spineless aunt and our fat cousin. But I looove you! Yes I do! Hey, that rhymes! I looove you! Yes I do!" Harry was giggling by the end, though he'd been crying at the start.

As Harry sung his new song to his sister in his head-trauma induced loopy state, Aster cried her eyes out. Looking at what her uncle and the rest of them had done to her brother, Aster sent prayers to everyone/thing she could think of, asking them to save them. The twins spent the rest of the night that way, Aster healing her poor brother, and Harry humming his little tune under his breath until he finally fell asleep around one o' clock. It'd be another long night for Aster, but she'd do everything she could to help her precious brother.

After all he'd done for her; she felt it was the least she could do.

**Author's Note: Please Fav and Review. Really helps get the story out there. And also, a quick rundown of the differences between my blood-status categorizing and canon's; in this story, a witch or wizard is categorized into one of a three blood-ratings based on parentage.**

**If both of their parents are magical, they are a Pure-blood. **

**If only one of their parents is magical, they are a Half-blood.**

**If neither of their parents is magical, they are a Muggle-born.**

**Other classifications are used when creature heritage is a factor.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

I do not own Harry Potter or any of its affiliated properties. This is a work of fiction written with no intents for profit in any monetary sense.

It was Halloween, almost two months since the night Vernon had given Harry a concussion, and while he'd healed up fine within a day thanks to Aster, his uncle had gotten steadily worse ever since. Vernon had been home early that day because the office had begun to cut his hours, mostly due to his increasingly belligerent nature. Having enough whiskey to get drunk before he'd finished his breakfast every morning probably played some part in all that, although if anyone asked Vernon (and indeed even if they didn't) he'd tell them that it was all his freak of a nephew's fault he was getting less work. And so, as Grunnings gave Mr. Dursley fewer and fewer hours, he began to drink more and more, and the more he drank the more punishment Harry had dished out to him. It'd gotten to the point, the drinking, not the child abuse (Petunia didn't care in the least about _that_), that even Mrs. Dursley had begun to get into arguments with her husband. By the last week of October it wasn't odd at all to hear screaming and yelling coming from Number Four, Privet Drive in the evenings after Mr. Dursley had arrived home from work.

Harry and Aster tried to keep their heads down, but with Vernon specifically blaming the nine year olds for his woes, it was bound to get ugly eventually.

And it did. On Halloween, the thirty-first of October, nineteen-eighty-nine, the situation finally came to a head.

"ENOUGH! That's it, VERNON! The last straw! I'm taking Dudders and leaving! You drink till you can't stand up _every damn day_! And NOW! NOW, you're telling me you've been _fired_! Really Vernon?! Really!? All you do when you're home is drink! And _now, _you've been caught drinking ON THE JOB!? Do you know what the neighbors are saying Vernon? Do you know what they're calling us? They're calling us _trash _Vernon_._ TRASH! I won't stand for it! Come on Dudley. Grab your bag. You and Mummy are leaving. NO Dudley! Just the bag! We'll come back for the rest of-"

SMACK!

Both Petunia and Dudley froze in place, Vernon's hand still raised from delivering the backhand. Petunia and Dudley could scarcely believe what'd just happened. Even Vernon looked shocked that he'd struck his wife. In the past, even piss drunk, kinda like he was now, he'd never hit Petunia. Other than those few times with Aster, he'd never really hit anyone but Harry.

Petunia didn't say a word. There were tears in her eyes as she ushered her son out the door and into the car, but still she held silent. Vernon just stood there in the middle of his living room, coffee table turned on its side and a few picture frames shattered on the ground, shards of glass laying at his feet. The twins listened from inside their cupboard where they'd been since they'd gotten home from school three hours ago, praying that they'd be forgotten by the man they called uncle, at least for the night.

Vernon must have stood there in the living room for fifteen minutes, just thinking. He asked himself, what led to this? What caused it? Why had he been fired? Had his wife and son really just left him? When had his perfect life become the shit-storm it now resembled? Where did it all go wrong?

And then it hit him.

Motherfucking, _cocksucking_, dirty-little-no-good, _FREAKS!_

With a great roar, Vernon tore across the living room and drunkenly slammed into the cupboard door. He bounced off of it about a foot before he wrapped his meaty fist around the doorknob.

The twins had been listening to their aunt and uncle's argument, sitting side by side on their cot with their hands fisted on their knees for its entirety. Every time one of the adults would yell, they'd flinch a little, knowing from experience that unrest in the house usually found its way back to the two. Anger at one another was taken out either physically on Harry or, less frequently, verbally on Aster.

That's why neither of the two was especially surprised when their uncle suddenly bellowed and ripped their door open. Not especially surprised, but terrified all the same.

Vernon reached a large red arm in, grabbed a fistful of Harry's white shirt, and yanked the nine year old out of the closet, sending him across the room. Harry landed on the glass from the picture frames his uncle had knocked over in his drunken fit earlier in his argument with Petunia, his thin shirt doing little to stop the jagged pieces from slicing into his back. With another bellow, Vernon straddled Harry's waist, getting glass all in his knees, not that he could feel it through the adrenaline and alcohol permeating his system. Vernon wasted no time wrapping his huge mitten like hands around Harry's neck, quite literally trying to choke the life out of him. He leaned forward, putting as much of his considerable weight into his grip as he could. Harry's neck would have undoubtedly snapped, had Aster not read the situation as far more desperate than any time before and acted.

Seeing that her brother was about to be murdered by her uncle in front of her, Aster came barreling into Vernon's side with a panicked scream, making him lose his grip on the young Potter, forcing him to remove one hand to catch himself.

With the red haze already consuming his vision, Vernon spared no thought to Harry's old threat and whipped his hand around, closed-fist, and clocked Aster just below her left eye. With a sharp cry she tumbled back, landing on her rear just clear of the glass. Time seemed to slow down for Harry as he watched his uncle's meaty knuckles connect with his sister cheek and send her to the floor.

When Vernon had first started to really lay into Harry, the male Potter would try to fight back a little, a flailing leg here and a blind swipe of the arm there. The retaliation for such antics was always brutal, and the one time he'd managed to claw three lines into his uncle's cheek he'd pissed blood for a week, despite Aster's help. Within a few months of the start of his beatings, Harry had learned the best thing he could do was weather his uncle's fury and try to protect his face and sides. He'd taken his learnings to heart and made it implicitly clear to Aster that under absolutely no circumstances was she to ever interfere, lest their uncle's attention shift to her. The few times she'd gone against Harry's orders had been the few times she'd been hit too when she was younger. After a screaming match that ended with them both sobbing on each other, Harry had finally made her see his way and convinced her that nothing hurt him more than seeing her in pain. Harry delivered his threat to his uncle soon after, and Aster was never hit again.

The moment Vernon's fist connected with his precious sister's cheek, Harry's face transformed form the pained wince it had been to a wide-eyed, teeth-bared snarl. With almost no conscious thought, Harry reached out his right hand and fumbled for a piece of glass, quickly slicing his hand open as he wrapped it around a five inch long shard. Swinging his left hand up and grabbing a fistful of his uncle's hair, Harry then swung his right hand up and buried the shard into his neck.

Vernon cried out in horrible pain as he tried to jerk away from his nephew, but he only managed to roll over so that Harry now sat on his fat belly.

Without a second's hesitation, Harry yanked the glass out of his uncle, only to immediately bring it back and sheath it in his neck again. And again. Three, four, ten, fifteen times he stabbed, before he then started swinging it around at his face, cutting above Vernon's brow, and then across his chin, and then everywhere. For almost an entire minute Harry carved his uncle in a rage, like the Jack O' Lantern's he and his sister never had the chance to, until finally, he stopped.

Chest heaving from exertion, his hair matted down with blood, Harry took in his surroundings, noting but not quite feeling the many pieces of glass in his back and the pain in his mangled hand. Blood was splattered in all directions from his uncle's head, thought the majority of it was pooling out of the sloppy wounds on his neck. While not quite dead yet, Vernon had long since gone into shock. They blood loss from his neck, where Harry'd managed to sever the blood vessels, would ensure he'd pass out soon, and die shortly thereafter.

Harry's eyes traveled from the gruesome scene, partially of his making, over to his sister. Aster, with a hand on her swollen cheek, was sneering down at their tormentor, taking vicious pleasure in his gruesome state. She'd seen enough blood and gore, though no neck or facial injuries of comparable severity obviously, on her brother that she was well and truly desensitized to such scenes.

Dropping his improvised knife to the floor, Harry staggered away from the now dead body of his uncle over to his sister, who he then dropped to his knees in front of. Reaching out with his less bloody hand, Harry cradled his sister's bruised cheek in his hand, brushing the skin tenderly with his thumb. He looked in her eyes for a second before he began speaking.

"Does it hurt, Sissy?"

Aster leaned into her brother's touch before bringing both of her slightly smaller and paler hands up and laying them on top of his. She closed her eyes and took a shuddering breath before responding.

"A little. Give me your hand."

Harry looked down at the raw hamburger trying to pass as his right hand. As he shifted to bring it up, sharp pain lit up in his back. In just in the few seconds he'd been talking to his sister, the adrenaline coursing through his system had managed to lessen; breathing new life into his injuries and making him wince.

Shaking his head, Harry instead turned and dropped to his butt with a soft whimper. He responded as he began to take his off his ruined shirt, "No. First I need you to pick the glass outta my back, ok?"

Aster swallowed the bile creeping up her throat at the sight of his back, feeling much sicker at the comparatively less gruesome scene, when compared to the injuries on her uncle's cooling body which was just a few feet from her. The wounds being her brother's made all the difference in the world, kinda like how you could see a snake or a fish's head chopped off and feel less than if someone in your family lost a leg in front of you. It was all about perspective.

Harry sat on the ground for a few minutes waiting for his sister to find the tweezers and get started on his back. He'd been beaten badly and often enough to know that the massive lack of emotions he was feeling was due to shock, which he could already feel wearing off in the form of slight tremors. He heard Aster sit back down behind him, but his mind was a million miles away. While his sister worked on his back, he worked on their situation.

They'd need money, though there should be enough upstairs and in their uncle's wallet to last a little while. He could use his changing power to look like an adult and buy a train ticket to get away from the house. They'd have to do that as soon as the two took a shower and packed. Number one priority at this point was to get as far away from Number Four as soon as possible. With them gone, the police would most likely think that whoever killed Vernon had taken them, which would be much better than sitting around with cuts on his hand consistent with the ones across Vernon's fat fucking face.

Harry spared a quick look and sneer at the body before refocusing.

Once they had taken a train far enough away, they'd get a hotel for the night. Tomorrow they'd probably need a more long-term plan, but that would have to do for now.

By the time Harry had decided on a tentative plan, Aster had finished healing his back and moved onto his hand. Honestly, with how bad it was hurting, Harry wanted nothing more than to sit and let his sister heal his hand for the next hour. He knew though, that the sooner they split, the safer they'd be. The police arriving was something he didn't want them there for, but Petunia suddenly showing up would certainly be a disaster as well.

Mind made up, Harry gently pulled his still wounded but no longer bleeding palm free from his twin's healing hands. When Aster looked up at him in askance, Harry shook his head and said, "We're leaving. We'll take what we can and head to the city."

Aster's eyes grew large with disbelief and wonder, before she mutely nodded her head, shocked from a combination of the day's events. Between the stress of listening to her aunt and uncle's screaming match, seeing her uncle try and choke the life out of her brother, seeing her _brother_ hack her uncle's face up into hamburger, and finally hearing her twin tell her that they were running away, was almost too much for the nine year old. Undoubtedly it would be too much for almost any other child her age, but the two Potters had been through a lot and were made of tough stuff on top of their rough childhood. As long as she had her brother with her, Aster knew everything would be fine.

Harry gave a small grin at her nod before he continued.

"We'll need to shower, obviously, but before we get clean there's something we need to do," he said, looking over at his uncle's cooling body. "We're gonna need his wallet for the ID and cash it has. There's no point to me looking like him if we don't have a license, ya know? Help me roll him, would ya?"

Aster gave a grimace at the thought of touching her uncle's bleeding carcass, but relented when Harry gently nudged her with his shoulder. They made their way next to Vernon, blood squelching between their toes from the ruined carpet. They got on their knees and, on the count of three, heaved Vernon over onto his side. Harry fumbled through Vernon's back pockets, fishing out his ostentatious Aspinal leather wallet. A quick check found a bank card, an ID, and just under one hundred and fifty pounds.

Harry set the wallet by the door while his sister grabbed them a change of clothes from the trunk in their cupboard.

"Don't bother digging me anything out Sis! I'll be changing into Uncle Vernon when we leave so I'll have to wear something of his."

Aster came back out of their 'room' with a change of clothes for her and nodded. The two then headed upstairs to the bathroom.

Harry stared at his reflection for a few seconds, taking in how completely covered in blood he was. There were splatters across his face, and his hair was laying limp against his head it was so matted down with the stuff. Feeling his mouth water with the desire to hurl, he quickly turned away and dropped his pants and underwear. He'd been bloodied before, but there was something fundamentally different about the blood belonging to someone else, something sicker.

Now eager to rinse himself clean of the bloody mess he was, Harry stood with his back pressed against his sister's front at the rear of the tub as they waited for the water to warm. Ten seconds later, they pulled the middle handle to stop the water from coming from the faucet and instead from the showerhead.

Harry felt Aster's hands snake around his middle and her head come to rest on his neck as they stood under the warm water, both needing the comfort only physical contact could provide. Aster squeezed her arms a little, needing to reassure herself that Harry was there and ok. Her mind kept flashing back to the sight of her uncle straddling him, trying his level best to kill the most important person in her world. Harry let out a soft relieved sigh, happy that his sister wasn't too disgusted with what he'd done downstairs to touch him. Aster'd given no indication that she was upset at Harry, but he was worried anyway.

Suddenly feeling very happy, Harry turned around and laid a big kiss right on his sister's lips. When she gave a pleased but confused smile back, Harry elaborated.

"We're _free_," Harry whispered fiercely. "We'll never have to sleep in that closet again. Vernon won't be doing anything to anyone _ever _again!" Harry wrapped his arms around Aster's lower back, pulling her flush against his chest. "We can do whatever we want! We're _free_ baby!"

Harry's face was lit up like a Christmas tree, the joy infecting Aster, causing her to grin back. She realized what he said was right. They _were_ free. Tomorrow they could do whatever they wanted. No one was ever going to hurt her brother again. They could finally be like all the other kids!

"We're free," She whispered back, just before she leaned in and kissed Harry. When they pulled away a second later, they were both smiling like loons.

"Wash my back Sis. The sooner we get clean the sooner we can blow this Popsicle stand."

Half an hour later, Harry was closing the front door behind him before he joined his sister on the sidewalk. They'd managed to scrounge up around five hundred pounds between the hundred and fifty in Vernon's wallet and their relatives' emergency stash upstairs. Harry, now having transformed into Vernon, took Aster's hand and the handle of the suitcase containing their things and, without a single glance back, took off towards the bus station.

An hour later saw the two getting off of the bus at the train station. Harry managed to fumble his way through the process of purchasing two tickets to London. Once there, the two took a final trip via cab to the Apex Hotel. They'd spent most of the trip chatting about what they were going to do tomorrow, but by the time they got to their room, they were both too exhausted to talk.

Quickly changing back to his real body, Harry locked the door behind them and popped open their suitcase, hunting out a set of pajamas. As he began to wiggle out of the comically large clothes, Harry asked Aster something that'd been troubling him for hours now.

"Hey, Sissy… You're ok with this, right?"

Aster's eyebrow rose in confusion as she asked back, "Well yeah. Why wouldn't I be? Am I missing something?"

"No. I mean, I don't think so. Well, I mean, I really hope not. It's just that, everything kinda went down so fast that I just wasn't sure if you were cool with it. You are, right? I mean, do you think differently of me? After what I did, I mean?" Harry fumbled over his words worse and worse the more nervous he got, until his voice was so quiet Aster had to lean forward to hear his last question. Her eyes widened when she did.

"Harry," Aster whispered as she closed the distance between them. Grabbing both of his hands in hers, Aster silently led Harry over to their bed, her twin only having managed to slip into a pair of plaid boxers before his impromptu question. Aster walked backwards until her butt touched the bed. Then, letting go of Harry's injured palm but holding tight to his other one, Aster gently pulled her brother into bed and then under the sheets and comforter. Finally letting go of his hand, she flipped over and turned off the lamp on her nightstand, the room's only light source extinguishing with a click. She then nudged him, motioning for him to turn away from her. Any confusion or sadness that may have been on his face at her nonverbal order was wiped away when Harry felt Aster throw her right arm around his waist, just before she molded herself to the back of his body. Propping herself up on her left elbow, Aster leaned down till her lips were touching the lobe of Harry's ear.

"No, Harry. I don't think you did anything wrong today. You're the same person I woke up next to this morning. I love you, Harry, and nothing you do will ever change that. Ok?" Aster asked, looking down into Harry's eyes, his emerald orbs carbon copies of her own. Aster felt her face heat a little as she waited for her twin's response, the seconds ticking by as he held her in an intense gaze. Finally, after what seemed like forever, his face broke into a wide, genuine smile before he nodded. Aster's own lips quickly copied the expression, his happiness making her happy even if she didn't really understand what Harry was grinning about in the first place.

Leaning down and delivering a swift peck to his lips, Aster let her elbow slide under their pillow until she was level with Harry. Snuggling into his back, she unknowingly had the same exact thought as her twin, just before unconsciousness claimed her.

'As long as we're together, everything will be fine. As long as we have each other, nothing else matters.'


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

I do not own Harry Potter or any of its affiliated properties. This is a work of fiction written with no intents for profit in any monetary sense.

"This is fucking bullshit."

"Aster, baby, _relax! _I said we'd be on time and we will. Shit, calm down. Oh, crap. Hey honey, have you seen my Rolex? I can't find it. Do you remember where I tossed it before we went to bed last night?"

"I think it's under the bed. Harry, for real. _Let's go. _It's not like we're gonna forget anything we can't just re-buy in London. I'm going to be pissed if we miss our portkey."

"We're _not_ going to miss our portkey dear. Ah-ha! Found it. You're a genius. All right, everything ready? You all packed?"

Aster leveled her best glare at her brother.

Chuckling, Harry said, "Okay, okay. Seriously baby, you need to chill out. We've still got five minutes." Harry walked up behind Aster once he'd fastened his watch around his left wrist and began kneading her shoulders, noting how tense her muscles were. "You seem stressed…You're not nervous, are you? I know that we're pretty famous back across the pond, but it's been sixteen years, I doubt we'll be hot news for too long. Once the inevitable media shit-storm blows over we can just focus on kicking ass in the different tournaments and competitions, yeah?" he said with his signature grin blaring full-force before he snaked his arms around Aster's belly and pressed a kiss onto the side of her neck.

Harry and Aster were heading over to Scotland with a delegation from the Salem Witches' Institute to participate in the first ever Poly-Magical Meet at Hogwarts. Normally, as a male, Harry wouldn't be permitted attendance with the all-girl delegation, but both he and his sister were special cases. Harry and Aster were both technically signed up as pupils at the Institute, but they really only took their magical exams there. Most of their magical education had come from private tutors the two had paid to teach them during the summers when they were away from their muggle prep school, the Trinity School in Manhattan. Between their expensive summer instruction, self-study, and personal brilliance, the twins were a little ahead of their seventh year counterparts in terms of theoretical knowledge, and a lot ahead in terms of practical magical skill, especially in regards to their respective fields of expertise; Aster's being healing magics and Harry's being transfiguration. All that magical prowess was on top of their spectacular muggle education.

Harry and Aster had graduated early last year from Trinity, with Aster taking the position of first in their class with Harry being second. Doors had opened left and right for the two after graduation, with universities near and far vying for their attention. After much discussion however, Harry and Aster decided to postpone any secondary muggle education and explore their magical options. It was pure happenstance that the Poly-Magical Meet would make its debut this year. Both twins recognized the Meet as a wonderful opportunity to explore their options in the magical world and make connections. Not to mention the whole thing sounded like a ton of fun, as well. And so the two talked Mrs. Anderson, the principal of Salem Witches' Institute (The Institute for short) into letting them attend the Meet under the school's banner. It wasn't hard, especially considering how hard Mrs. Anderson was trying to get the two to apply for teaching positions next year.

Aster focused on the feel of Harry's arms around her belly, her back flush against his chest. Honestly, she wasn't too nervous about what people's reactions to her and her brother's presence at Hogwarts would be. She knew the two were famous in Britain, especially her brother, for their role in Voldemort's downfall. She had already accepted the inevitable public scrutiny the two would soon endure, and had ruled it a small price to pay for the benefits attending the Meet could bring. Neither was she anxious about dealing with people's reactions when they found out about her relationship with her brother. They'd never made any effort to conceal their feelings for each other before, and neither saw any reason to do so now.

The main reason for her mood was crabbiness left over from the night before. They'd gone out for drinks at a club to sort of celebrate going to the Meet and to enjoy their last night in New York, for a while a least. Everything was going pretty well, they had both been having a great time drinking and dancing when some blonde college skank had tried talking to her brother. With him standing at an even six feet tall with messy, jaw length hair, an athletic build, perfect straight white teeth, and brilliant green eyes, such happenings were plenty frequent. The thing that made this incident stand out was when Harry very politely informed the blonde that he was with someone, and instead of taking the hint and scramming like most of the girls before her had, the stupid slag kept flirting with him! He had been at the bar getting drinks for them while she sat at their table, but she was still close enough to see him getting frustrated at the woman. And then, when she came over to see what the problem was, the girl wouldn't believe that the two were together, since they looked so similar! Aster, at five-five, with the same color hair as her brother's falling down to her mid-back, and the same bright green eyes, was very obviously his sister. When the girl decided that they were kidding, and that her fake tits should be sandwiched around her brother's arm, Aster had had enough and knocked the bitch out cold. The days when the two had lived on the streets and had to defend themselves with their fists were long gone, but between that and the kickboxing classes she'd been taking for years, Aster was a force to be reckoned with, despite her slight frame. The two had been promptly kicked out of the club, though neither was too upset; Harry'd always said how hot a violent Aster made him, and she was feeling the need to express her possessiveness herself, even after dealing with the nameless blonde flirt. They were unlikely to have stayed regardless, both suddenly _very_ anxious to get back home. Harry was an absolute God in bed, between his length, girth, and dominating disposition, but after seeing that harlot come on to her brother, Aster decided that he'd just have to deal with being ridden for the night. Somehow, he managed.

After their slightly drunken romp, Aster had expected to feel much better the next time she woke up. In the past, Harry's intimate touch and sweet pillow-talk had always been enough to de-ruffle her feathers after someone had made too insistent a pass on either of them, but for some reason she'd been grouchy anyway. She figured it may be that she was feeling uncomfortable at the thought of all the other people they'd be living near soon. Back at Trinity, by the time they were fourteen and had been there for a few years, all of the students knew not to mess with them, or bother them for dates, two things that everybody at the meet was going to have to learn anew, and after last night she just wasn't looking forward to dealing with _that_ particular aspect of their trip.

After working through her feelings, Aster resolved to not let it keep her down. She'd deal with whatever came their way as it did, and that was that. Determination to enjoy their trip renewed, Aster turned around in Harry's arms and wrapped her own around the back of his neck, interlacing her fingers as she stared into his eyes.

"Aster…" Harry whispered with widened eyes as her face split into a wide, warm smile. She shook her head at the unasked question, showing him that she was okay with a long, slow kiss, instead. When they parted, breathless, both felt much better than they had a minute ago. Harry spared a glance at his watch, grabbed his magically expanded suitcase, and pulled out the blue dinosaur toy they'd been given to portkey them to The Institute. Aster grabbed her own bags and laid her finger on top of the T-Rex's snout. A few seconds later and they vanished from the New York City penthouse they'd called home for six years now, marking the first step of their journey to Hogwarts.

-o0O0o-

In a vivid swirl of color the two Potters appeared just outside of the Institute's main entrance with Aster's head resting on Harry's shoulder, his arms wrapped securely around her slight frame. The two took a moment to enjoy the fresh air, a delicacy not found in New York. The weather was far more pleasant as well, though neither of the two were especially dressed to enjoy it, seeing as how they'd be in Scotland within the hour anyway. Harry had on a black leather jacket which rested on top of a Nirvana t-shirt. Acid washed blue jeans and a pair of black Chucks rounded out his outfit. Aster wore a short sleeved blue denim jacket over a black long sleeved Red Hot Chili Peppers tee. She also wore a pair of black jeans, a black scarf, and a pair of white Reeboks. The two teens gazed upon The Institute, marveling at it as they always did when they visited.

The girls attending Salem were treated to a more modern magical experience in terms of dwellings when compared to their European counterparts. Instead of a castle from the dark ages or a palace from the renaissance, they instead studied magic for ten months out of the year in what was basically a small, all-magical town. The settlement was surrounded by a stereotypical wooden wall, with logs that were pointed at the top staked into the ground side by side, forming a seamless barrier in a perfect circle around the Institute. At least, it would have been stereotypical, had said logs not been from wrought-iron wood trees, a magical marvel exclusive to North America. The trees were contradictory in nature, being that iron and magic were usually incompatible, making their existence, while rare, all the more astounding. Each stake was big enough that, if it so struck your fancy, you'd be able to carve a hole into one's base wide enough to drive two eighteen wheelers through side by side, with plenty of 'wood' still left on the edges. When such wide trees also reached six hundred feet into the air, and were a beautiful cinnamon color, they made for a truly impressive sight.

It was inside this wall where the pseudo-town lay. Though it was known as The Salem Witches' Institute, there were actually many different buildings. In the very center was the giant, old, plantation-style mansion where the girls actually attended most of their core classes. Surrounding this building in a concentric fashion were the girl's dorms. They were separated by year, making a total of eight buildings to surround the mansion, separated by cobblestone streets. Past this first ring lay a few more buildings which were mostly used for elective classes. The second ring also held structures to aid in practical demonstrations, including a dueling platform as well as the greenhouses. The third ring, a favorite among students, was just past these buildings. This is where the recreational areas were. The third ring had a park, a huge pool, a quidditch/soccer/lacrosse field, the post office, and a gym, equipped with muggle exercise equipment and even a basketball court. Past the third ring were mostly crop fields that stretched all the way to the boundary, dotted with small houses. Mostly vegetables were grown here, though there were a few fruit orchards and even a small ranch. Most of the food served to the students was grown here, with latents tending to the livestock and crops throughout the year.

It really was a charming place to learn, and had they not needed to keep a low profile, at least in regards to the magical community, the two would have most likely tried to attend. If not Salem, with Harry being a guy and all, then one of the other academies scattered throughout the states. But, between them not wanting to risk being sent back to jolly old England, and an honest enjoyment with their enrollment at Trinity, the two had made due with pricey summer instructors, who'd been sworn to secrecy until the two's seventeenth birthday.

Still, gazing upon The Institute's otherworldly wall, both Harry and Aster allowed themselves to mourn over things that they'd never experienced. It wasn't long, however, before the two were shaken from their musings by the calls of Mrs. Anderson. Well, she was Mrs. Anderson, Principal of Salem Witches' Institute to her students. The Potters knew her better as Sally. The woman was only ten years older than the two, plenty young enough that over the course of the summer, during which she'd done her level best to entice at least one of the two into accepting a teaching position, they'd managed to become friends.

"Harry! Aster! It's so good to see you! How have you been?" Sally asked, pushing through the throng of girls who'd been standing behind them, further from the walls than them.

"Really, Sal? 'How have we been'? We went out for drinks a week ago," Aster deadpanned, as she was known to do.

"Which, as the principal of an illustrious school, I must once again scold you over. You're still years away from being old enough to partake!" Sally said, studiously ignoring the two's murmurings of how it had been her who'd asked them out in the first place. "Any-who, I just wanted to say that I'm glad you'll be coming with us to the Meet. It's quite exciting, isn't it?"

Harry and Aster both gave small smiles at their friend's enthusiasm. If it wasn't such a boon when it came to connecting with her students and tactically solving sensitive problems, they'd say the blonde was too lively to be the principal of a school. It was a help, however, and in the end she managed to run a tight ship and still hold the adoration of her students. It was really quite remarkable, much like the woman herself.

"It is," Harry answered her question, removing his arms from their place around Aster's hips and stepping forward to give Sally a hug. Aster stepped up and filled Sally's arms once her brother let go, hugging her friend tightly. While the three had only had short meetings in the past, usually lasting less than ten minutes, they'd spent a lot of time together over the last year, quickly growing close.

"So how are we getting there anyway? Portkey or something?" Harry asked, looking around.

"No no no, it'd be difficult to secure enough international portkeys for us all anyway, not to mention we need to provide our own lodgings for the meet. Instead of the more mainstream methods, we'll be traveling via a modified BiSprout," Sally said, reaching into her duffel bag and pulling out a seed the size of a watermelon.

While Harry was trying to remember what exactly a BiSprout was, he knew he'd read about them somewhere, Sally had taken the opportunity to yell for the girls to form a circle and hold hands. As Aster led him over to what would undoubtedly seem a strange sight to anyone who stumbled upon the scene, Harry remembered what the magical plant did. Just as he opened his mouth to confirm with Aster, Sally chucked the humongous seed into the center of their impromptu formation before she shot a golden spell at it and quickly grabbed Harry's left hand; his right already in Aster's, fingers intertwined. The seed quickly sunk into the earth, confirming to Harry that he was remembering correctly.

Even knowing, however, still didn't quite prepare him for the sight of two giant wooden hands bursting from the ground on either side of their circle. Even the smallest fingers were still many times his height, and another several times his width. The oaken digits groaned as they began bending, the giant wooden palms beginning to angle inwards, casting long shadows. Within five seconds, the ten fingers had locked together, forming an airtight seal around the Salem delegation.

From what he could remember, BiSprouts were magical trees that grew almost exclusively in Alaska, though there were reported findings in the Amazon as well, strangely enough. The trees were known for their more obvious utility, that being that BiSprout seeds planted and nurtured normally would sprout a giant tree that was naturally carved on the inside into living chambers fit for many different kinds of beings. The trees also had a lesser known ability, which they were currently using. All BiSprout trees yielded exactly two seeds. These two seeds were magically linked, having the same, _flavor_ may be the best way of putting it, magic as each other. This link was the inspiration behind the _iter gemina arbor_ spell, which was what Sally had cast on the seed. Literally meaning traveling twin tree, the spell locked onto the BiSprout seed and sought out its twin seed, warping to it and taking its contents along for the ride.

In Scotland, at that moment, the seed Albus Dumbledore had been owled and planted a week ago sprouted in a manner identical to its twin in Salem. With all of the Hogwarts students standing just outside of the front doors watching, the two massive wooden hands warped, and then seemed to melt into each other, until only a wooden dome remained. The dome quickly widened a lot, and heightened a bit as well. It kept morphing, stretching this way and that, until it finally stood still. The end product was a three story mansion, happily curved around a little bit of the Black Lake. The whole building was seamless, save for the doors and sliding windows, otherwise being made of only one masterfully carved piece of wood. Different shades of bark, arranged to give off the impression of brick, added to the house's charm. Soon after the house completed growing, its front doors swung open, spilling Salem students into the cool afternoon air of the Scottish countryside, Mrs. Anderson at the head.

Harry and Aster were just behind Sally, side by side, settling into the agreed upon two file formation. They spied the great, spooky ship softly bobbing in the lake and the elegant carriage parked to their left, close to the patch of wood they remembered was named The Dark Forest.

"Looks like we're the last to arrive, right sis?" Harry whispered, remembering that only four major magical schools would be attending the meet.

"Looks like it. That carriage looks French, meaning that the ship is Durmstrang's, probably. Those two, Salem, and Hogwarts are the only ones attending. Although, I suppose that there may be others here who were home or private schooled, and are just being sponsored like us. Not too terribly diverse for a supposed international meet, but from what I've heard about the British Ministry of Magic, I'm not too surprised that they only invited those present. Two other European and the oldest American magical school seems to be a very Magical Britain-esk type of party, especially when you factor in their civil laws targeting those of creature or non-magical descent. Those kinds of people make up a lot of the population of most magical schools, which slimmed down the number of invitees by quite a lot."

It was easy for Harry to detect the disgust in his sister's voice, though almost anybody else would have fallen for her stoic façade. He shared her feelings about the targeted laws making life harder for different magical races here in Britain, but even he didn't harbor the same vitriol as his sister. While he was proud of how much he'd managed to shield his sister from during those first three years they'd lived on the streets of New York, and the seven plus years under the tender care of their relatives, taking the brunt of the hate humans could dish out had made him more jaded and used to cruelty than his twin. While she had been shocked when they'd discovered the civil state of Magical Britain while researching their motherland's magical government, he'd almost been expecting it. While he couldn't be considered a pessimist, it was true that he didn't hold too much faith in humanity these days.

Still, he didn't want his sister to dwell on such thoughts, lest the whole night be ruined, so he hurried to say, "Yeah, but even with only the four of us, there should still be some stiff competition. Looking through their different curriculums, I'd say that Durmstrang's gonna have the best duelists. Beauxbatons' will probably have a good group that will give the Salem girls a hard time in the intellectual challenges. They're the only two schools present that have both a debate team and a magical theory class. Normally I'd bet that Hogwarts would dominate any quidditch competitions, by far they have the highest number of students who go on to play in the pro's, but with Amidio Krum here, it's hard to say. He alone may be enough of an equalizer to give Durmstrang a fighting chance."

Harry stopped talking as they came within hearing distance of the Hogwarts students, who were beginning to look quite cold standing on those grey stone stairs. Harry and Aster were already drawing a bit of attention, seeing as how differently they were dressed in comparison to the Salem girls. The girls were dressed in heelless black shoes, grey knee-length skirts with pantyhose, white long-sleeved button-up shirts, and black vests with ties in colors of their choosing. Harry, being the only male in the lot, was getting eyeballed especially hard.

Now, straight-backed and with disinterested looks plastered across their faces, the two Potters' waited while Sally met Dumbledore with a polite smile and handshake. Once the two were done exchanging pleasantries, a woman who introduced herself as Professor McGonagall led them into the castle. Sally, with both the Potters and the Salem girls in tow, was led by Professor McGonagall to a large set of lightly colored wooden double doors, which opened into what Professor McGonagall introduced as the Great Hall.

Harry and Aster were both silently impressed with the intricate charm spanning the Hall's ceiling, forming a miniature sky for the students to eat under. Some of the girls behind them were remarking how beautiful the dark sky and twinkling stars were, but by that time both of the Potters had turned their attentions back down to eye level, where they were met with dozens of student's faces, staring at them.

The Great Hall held within it five large, long, tables. Four of these dark wooden tables were oriented side by side, each starting near the doors and stretching down the hall, coming to a stop near a short, wide set of steps which led to a raised platform, upon which a fifth, shorter table sat, giving it an air of importance. Already seated, at the first and second closest tables respectively, were the students from Durmstrang and Beauxbatons. McGonagall motioned for them to have a seat at the next table over, between the empty fourth table and the Beauxbatons delegation. Harry took the first available spot on the bench closest to the French students. Aster sat to his left, with the rest of the girls taking the hint and filing in only on that side of the table.

As soon as the last Salem girl had taken her seat the double doors opened once again, Albus Dumbledore entering in the lead with Hogwarts' students pouring in behind him. As the old wizard made his way down the aisle towards the staff table, between the Salem and Beauxbatons students, Harry took the opportunity to observe the Hogwarts students.

He'd read that they were between the ages of eleven and eighteen, or first through seventh years. Apparently Hogwarts, much like the country it resided in, was founded on the beliefs of segregation. Each student was sorted into one of four different houses, Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. While the book he'd read didn't specify how exactly the students were sorted, he'd been able to gather that a non-partial third party divided the eleven year olds up according to their most predominate characteristic. As he looked around the room, he could see that apparently whatever did the sorting had been successful at placing similar students together.

He didn't buy it.

First of all, to sort eleven year olds, who are just entering their formative years, based on their character was madness. Harry figured that a professional researcher would be hard pressed to find a more wishy-washy creature on mother earth than an eleven year old boy or girl. How can you be brave, wise, loyal, or ambitious when you've only a faint grasp over what those words really mean at best? Even worse was the fact that, as Harry looked around the hall, he saw very distinctive behavior from house to house. Disregarding how bad labeling groups of eleven year olds is, just the fact that the students at Hogwarts were encouraged to think that everybody fit into one of four categories was offensive. Human beings were among the most complex and complicated creatures on the planet, rivaled only by other sentient magical races. To automatically assume that seven billion people could be sorted into fourths was ridiculous. That was disregarding how contradictory the traits students were sorted on were. How exactly hard working didn't go with ambitious or knowledge seeking was beyond him. Ravenclaw's wit and Slytherin's cunning were synonymous for Pete's sake! It was obvious, just by looking around the room, that students were encouraged to act as expected. What an unhealthy system…

Next to Harry, Aster was running through similar thoughts. They both shook themselves out of their musings, however, when the students reached the table they were sat at and began filling it in. The students, Gryffindors if the crests on their robes and their red ties were anything to go by, were sporadically filling in. Harry figured that they were so unsure about where to sit because half of their seats were currently taken by American girls.

Eventually the Gryffindors managed to find seats, completely filling in the right side of the table. Sitting directly across from the Potters was a girl with wild brown hair, a light skinned boy with a round face, and to his right, a red haired girl whose face was populated with freckles.

The brow haired girl looked to be about to initiate conversation with them, but instead kept quiet like the rest of the Hall when Dumbledore stood from his seat and tapped his spoon against his cup. Once he had their attention he set his spoon and cup down, freeing his hands, which he spread in an inviting gesture.

"Welcome," Albus merrily shouted, "to the first International Poly-Magical Meet! Students, please join me in welcoming our guests! The students from Salem, Durmstrang, and Beauxbatons have traveled a long way to be here. Welcome to Hogwarts!"

While the table free of foreign students erupted into cheers, the clapping was more muted at the other tables, chiefly because of how awkward it was to clap for someone in their face. The three across from Harry and Aster managed to shake off the strangeness and clapped politely while offering the two small smiles. Both Potters returned the smiles with larger ones of their own. Harry couldn't help but think that these three were a good sort.

"Now, while I may know my way around a nice long speech, I am also perfectly capable of seeing when such things would go unappreciated. So instead, please, tuck in!" And with that, Albus Dumbledore clapped his hands once, signaling for the food to appear, and retook his seat.

Harry and Aster were momentarily taken aback as a grand feast popped into existence, but quickly recovered. In the almost seven years that they'd known of magic, they'd seen plenty of strange things to know the best way to handle unexpected occurrences was to accept them and move on, which is what they did here. While Aster was loading her and Harry's plate down with roast beef, since she was closer, Harry asked the redhead to pass a few rolls down, since she was the only one close enough to reach them. As she did, the bushy haired girl, who'd been about to talk to them before Dumbledore's speech, introduced herself.

"Hello, I'm Hermione Granger. This is Neville Longbottom and this is Ginny Weasley. Neville and I are seventh years, and Ginny is a sixth year. We're all Gryffindors, by the way. You're from Salem aren't you? I thought that Salem was a girl's only school? And you're both dressed so differently from the others too. I've never seen a wizard or witch wear such muggle clothing. Not that I have a problem with it or anything! I'm muggleborn myself, you see. My parents are dentists. I just thought it was strange that you'd be dressed so differently from the others. N-not that I think you're strange! It's just an expression!"

Harry and Aster glanced at each other incredulously with wide eyes. Good God but that girl had impressive lung capacity. If that badge pinned to her collar was any indication, this was the Heard-Girl who was talking to them; kinda like the class president back at Trinity. Was she nervous, or was the girl always this excitable? And they'd thought Sally was bad…

Either way, Harry figured that it would be rude to ignore her, especially after such an earnest attempt at conversation. Besides, not that he'd ever let Aster know on pain of _the couch, _he honestly found the girl's exuberance quite cute.

"Hello, I'm Harry Potter, and this is my sister, Aster Potter. It's nice to meet you three. And don't worry, I'm hardly gonna be offended by honest questions or observations, ya know? Sally, or Mrs. Anderson, is the principal of the Institute, and a friend too. When we heard about the Meet, we asked if she'd sponsor us. She agreed, and so here we are," Harry said, before he leaned in and held his hand up to his mouth, fake whispering, "And I woulda given the skirt and pantyhose a go, for consistency's sake of course, but I didn't want to embarrass my dear sister," he said with a wink.

Ginny laughed, Neville smiled, Aster scowled, and Hermione's cheeks heated, but his joke and wink had accomplished what he'd wanted them to. A bit of the awkward sorta-tension that conversing with complete strangers could generate had dissipated, leaving the five more relaxed and comfortable than before.

Well, they would've been relaxed, had Neville not processed their names and blurted out, "Harry Potter!? The Boy-Who-Lived?!"

He immediately looked embarrassed and abashed as he realized the reaction the two Potters had to his outburst, their faces cooling and smiles disappearing. That's not even taking into consideration the response drawn from the hall. Neville's cheeks burned brighter and brighter with every whisper of 'Harry Potter?' and every turned head. He looked like he wanted to apologize, but with the hall growing quiet he couldn't quite work up the nerve to break the silence.

Harry and Aster, both now with masks of disinterest and apathy firmly in place, languidly cut their roast beef and buttered their rolls, keeping their eyes up but still somehow looking uncaring of the attention being drawn to them. The two had gone through hell in their younger years, and even after they'd managed to steal enough money to get off the streets and away from the psychopaths, having only each other to depend on hadn't been easy. It had, however, toughened the two up a whole hell of a lot. If one were to see how firmly Harry's left and Aster's right knee were pressed together, however, then they might know that the two weren't totally unaffected.

Harry, resigned to the events that were about to unfold, simply swallowed his food, lifted his right hand up to brush aside his bangs, slipped his left hand into Aster's right, and said, "That's me."

The hall, which had previously been silent save for a few whispers and mutterings, erupted when the scar which had previously been hidden behind Harry's bangs was revealed. It had actually been hidden by more than hair, but it'd be a cold day in hell before Harry tipped his hand and revealed that he was a metamorph with full control over his gift. The two Potters would've never lasted as long as they did had they had to rely on _hair_ or a detectable magical glamour to hide such a notable mark. As it was, they'd had plenty of close calls over the years even a continent away, immersed in the muggle world, and scarless. They'd known, of course, that they'd be discovered when they came back over to Britain. They hadn't used fake names since their days on the streets when being remembered could land them in juvie or with a foster family, and they weren't about to start back up now. Didn't mean that they had to like the fact that they apparently couldn't even eat a single meal before all of this drama played out.

Finally, after almost a full minute of the two Potters looking on in apparent apathy, hands clenched together, Albus Dumbledore rose from his seat, from which he'd been quickly whispering back and forth with Sally, and shouted for silence. Even then, it took a full thirty seconds for everybody to quiet down and return to their seats.

"Now, if Mister and Miss Potter can please join me in my office, I believe that we can get this all sorted out. If you please, Mister Potter, Miss Potter, Principal Anderson." Dumbledore said, rising from his seat.

Sally followed him down the aisle to the Potters, who had stood and were waiting for them at the end of the Gryffindor table. Dumbledore offered a kind smile as he swept past the two and out the double doors, heading towards the main stairs.

Sally offered them a supportive smile and a quiet, "Come on," as she followed the older wizard.

Harry and Aster, still hand in hand, silently followed behind the two. By the time they reached the stairs, their palms were beginning to sweat. Tension worked its way into their bodies, growing with each step they took towards Dumbledore's office. As the two watched the stone gargoyle admit the Headmaster into his office, they began mentally reviewing exactly the kinds of things they expected the old man to try. As the office door swung shut, the two Potters appeared completely relaxed, with zero emotions playing across their faces save a scant trace of boredom. On the inside, however, the two knew that the next few minutes could prove to be very important in the future, and both were determined to not give an inch. They'd worked too hard to build their life into what it was today, and they'd be damned if some manipulative old man thought he could change it.

As Albus Dumbledore sat in his chair and motioned for the three to be seated, there was only one thought on all three's minds.

'Bring it on, old man.'

**Author's note: Hey guys, sorry for the long wait! Progress was slow for a little as I couldn't decide between a few different ways I wanted this story to go. Where it is now is very far away from where I thought it would be at this point, although I'm much happier with it how it is now. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed, expect an update soon, and please leave a review, follow, and favorite! Really helps get this out there, pushes it up and gets people to notice it. Hope you enjoyed and I will see you next time!**


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